


Silhouette

by lividsilk



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy Sex, gets weirdly introspective at the end, or maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lividsilk/pseuds/lividsilk
Summary: When the Emissary of Death straddled his hips and leaned down and kissed him, Taako wasn’t aware of anything outside of the intense desire to blearily kiss back, curling his fingertips into the lapels of his jacket and shivering as the feathers of his cloak grazed his side.





	Silhouette

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection. 
> 
> Read Kipp's contribution [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12886380).
> 
> No thanks to Sunny (Sunruner) and Kipp (ShinyKipp) for being terrible influences.

A day off lately was rare for Taako.

Between the school, and a book deal, and something like saving the planar system from imminent destruction, he’d gotten a little more popular than he’d known how to deal with. As a consequence, even his free time had to be scheduled in, solid blocks of hours or days written in permanent ink and non-negotiable to both Ren’s sanity and his own.

It wasn’t just him, of course. All seven of them had found themselves indiscriminately busier and more in demand than they ever had been, the demands and responsibility seeming to bleed into those they associated with as well. Maybe it was why Kravitz had been gone for weeks, only able to spare short conversations on his Stone of Farspeech. Maybe it was why Angus could only write about twice a month, why pages upon pages crammed to the margins with tiny handwriting was still not enough.

It was definitely why Taako and Lup hadn’t a night to themselves in almost a year, catching minutes or hours every now and again but unable to truly spend time with each other. So when they discovered that their schedules lined up just so, leaving them to their own devices with their respective boyfriends out of the picture, there was no question as to how they were going to spend said night: Together, alone, with wine, and food, and a sickening amount of gossip and stories.

The dinner had been spread out on the sitting room floor, fireplace roaring with a magical flame that lent no heat to the humid Neverwinter summer air. They’d sat on plush pillows and passed dishes between them as they exchanged anecdotes and admonishments, arguing between giggles and stealing bites off of each others’ plates.

Taako lost count of how many times he’d spit wine back into his glass in fits of barely-contained laughter before they did away with glasses altogether, preferring to swig straight from bottles as they made plans for future vacations and future meals. By the time they’d tipped the last empty bottle onto its side and curled up into each other, slurring whispers and secrets between them, it was well past midnight and tipping towards 1 AM.

“Stay?” He muttered, eyes fixated on his cuticles, as if he couldn’t care less.

“Maybe. Your house smells too new. I hate it. I’d get in _so_ much trouble if I detoured through the planes, though.”

“Huh, really?”

“Tch, no.” She used his shoulder as leverage to stumble to her feet, blinking rapidly, as if she could clear the haziness from her vision by sheer force of will. “See you in the morning. Maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he echoed, slumping over onto the plush ottoman, the flame in the fireplace fading into nothingness with a soft _pop._ He convinced himself that he was merely waiting until Lup was asleep (or gone) to trudge up the stairs to his bedroom, clothes falling in a careless line to the bathroom as he pushed through the bare minimum of a nightly routine.

By the time he fell into bed, naked and drunk, it was 1 in the morning and he was almost unbearably hot. He kicked the duvet down with an irritated huff and turned onto his side, cheek hitting the pillow and his eyes closing almost immediately.

His house did smell new. It smelled like wood and paint and fresh sheets, like the lavender and pine outside of his window. It wasn’t at all what he was used to but luckily for everyone Taako acclimated quickly, able to wind anything around him into strands of familiarity that he could weave into the bare minimum of comfort. And here, in a solid wood bed surrounded by pine and silk and the gross smell of paint, he slipped unhindered into a deep meditation.

And when he felt a familiar presence in his room at 4 in the morning, disrupting his trance and pulling him more _aware_ than _semi-aware_ , he wasn’t immediately panicked.

Some primal part of his brain, as addled with wine and trance as it was, still pulled comfort from his recognition of this place as _home_.

The semi-aware part of his mind, lagging as it was, pulled comfort and a slight thrill from the presence itself.

So when the Emissary of Death straddled his hips and leaned down and kissed him, Taako wasn’t aware of anything outside of the intense desire to blearily kiss back, curling his fingertips into the lapels of his jacket and shivering as the feathers of his cloak grazed his side.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that he was still slightly drunk. While three hours of meditation was nowhere near enough to completely sober up, the worst of it had worn well away by now, leaving the alcohol blameless for his lack of inhibition as he kissed Kravitz for the first time in weeks.

There was a familiar chill that clung to Kravitz, to his clothes and his skin and his hair, and Taako had the sudden and drunken urge to wrap his arms around him and  _yank,_ to pull him down into the warmth under his sheets. He wanted to tuck him in and curl around him and kiss him just like this, shock his sluggish heartbeat into action, make its tempo match his own.

He settled instead for reaching up and cupping a hand around back of his neck, slipping warm fingertips beneath his shirt collar to caress cool skin. Kravitz shifted, trailing a gloved hand over his bare stomach, leaning down and whispering against the shell of his ear.

“I want you.”

Taako froze at the words, breath catching in his throat as his heartbeat jumped insistently against his ribs. Kravitz’s hand continued to slide down, caressing his hipbone and flattening his palm against Taako's thigh.

“Is this okay?”

Taako was still too drunk-drowsy to do much more than nod and whisper “uh-huh,” letting his knees part against the firm touch and sighing as silk-covered fingers brushed over him, already half-hard.

Kravitz’s other hand came up, gently taking his wrists one at a time and pressing them into the pillow by his head, an unspoken command in the way his touch lingered: _leave these here._

His stomach twisted with anticipation at the gesture and he wondered, distantly, if Lup made good on her promise (threat?) to stay in the room across the hall.

Then Kravitz kissed him again, and he decided that he really didn't care.

Death, as it turned out, was an _excellent_ kisser. It was easy for Taako to get caught up in it, even when he was sober, so it wasn’t that the ungloved hand tracing up and down his thigh went unnoticed. It just became much more noticeable when it was two slicked fingers sliding _up,_ tracing his entrance with firm circles. He gasped out a quiet _yes_ against Kravitz's lips, tilting his hips up as a single digit slipped in, eyes fluttering shut as his awareness narrowed to nothing but the smooth drag of skin against skin.

And then a second finger joined the first and he _gasped,_ loud and sudden and cut short by a gloved hand pressing firm against his mouth. His eyes blinked open, meeting Kravitz’s in the dimness.

“You have to be quiet, love.” Another steady push of his fingers, another lewd sound melting into muffled silence against silk. “You have a houseguest, after all.”

That small bit of information flitted out of his mind almost the second it reached it, still too hazy and warm with drink to care about anything aside from the man above him. Taako moaned into Kravitz's glove as two slick fingers worked him open, so thorough and slow that there was nothing but warm pleasure swirling in tipsy haze of his senses. He felt those long fingers crook up and his moans coalesced into a soft shaky cry, eyelids fluttering shut as he rocked his hips.

It didn't take much, not with how warm and relaxed he was and how well Kravitz knew his body, hitting that sweet spot and moving with him, reducing him to a shuddering mess almost embarrassingly fast. When Kravitz asked if he was ready in a low murmur against his ear, Taako merely nodded, fingers twitching into the pillow as he was left empty and wanting. He felt the mattress dip as Kravitz shifted to his knees above him and he opened his eyes to the telltale rustle of clothing, able to properly look at him for the first time in weeks.

 _Fuck_ , he was gorgeous.

Kravitz's feathered mantle hung heavy around his shoulders, pooling soft and inky black onto the pale sheets. He was still fully dressed, jewelry and all, the beads in his hair catching the dim candlelight of the room as he tugged the remaining glove off and moved his hands to his waist. He pushed his pants and undergarments down just enough to take himself out, one hand lazily stroking as the other reached for— ah, so he’d come prepared.

Taako’s breath caught in his throat, watching intently as he slicked himself, the desire to reach out and touch him almost impossible to ignore. He imagined curling his fingers around him, imagined his lips following his hand down the length, imagined a choked gasp and a hand twisting tight into his hair, imagined closing his eyes against hips thrusting forward, imagined the noises he’d make as he spilled down his throat—

He was brought out of his reverie by one hand bracing itself on the pillow and the other positioning him between his legs, and now his arms  _ached_ with the desire to reach up and embrace him.

But Kravitz wanted quiet and Kravitz wanted his hands to himself and Taako was _nothing_ if not capable of following instructions to the letter, so instead he smirked and shifted forward, pressing insistently against the head of his erection.

“Eager, huh?”

Kravitz's only response was to push forward, sliding almost halfway in with no resistance, and Taako let out a shuddering breath as his knees bent and his feet pressed flat into the mattress, giving him leverage to arch up. He sighed in delight as Kravitz rocked his hips gently until he was fully inside him, the dull ache quickly fading to a throbbing pleasure that was only heightened by the fuzzy tipsiness still clouding his mind.

That first full thrust sent shivers up his spine, arousal sparking white-hot and intense under his skin. The second thrust did it— the way their hips met and the way he slid in made Taako _wail_ , earning him a hand hastily slapped across his mouth, shoving his head down onto the pillow.

“ _Shhh._ ”

Taako nodded, eyes glazing over with desire; Kravitz was moving again, hand still firm over his mouth, steady and deep thrusts drawing a muffled whine from him. This slow thoroughness felt good but Taako felt _amazing_ , warm and open and pliant, and he wanted to take advantage of it.

No, he wanted to be taken advantage _of_.

He wanted hard and fast and intense, wanted his world to tilt and shatter until he was aware of nothing but Kravitz inside him, filling him, holding him—

He reached over, tugging his lover's fingers from his lips and sucking in a gasp of air as Kravitz pressed in, rocking inside him briefly before sliding out again.

“Harder?” He whispered, moving his hips in what he hoped was an enticing gesture.

“You'll be loud,” Kravitz murmured, brushing a few strands of hair from his cheek.

“You love it when I’m loud,” Taako whispered back, words sharper than he’d intended.

“I love it when you’re loud for _me_.”

“Oh—” And whatever he was about to say next was lost to another maddeningly slow thrust, biting his lower lip as his hips tilted up obligingly. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, quiet moans mingling with soft gasps and sighs, but the agonizing push-pull of their hips was quickly becoming _not enough_. Taako let his head fall back onto the pillow with a soft _thwump_ , heart pounding in his ears and his breathing shallow as he turned his head to whisper against Kravitz's ear.

“Please.”

Kravitz stilled, the shift almost palpable between them as he drew in a quiet, sharp breath against Taako's cheek.

It wasn’t begging.

Taako wasn't in the business of begging, but he was very much in the business of using words to get what he— what they _both_ — wanted. He knew exactly how to do it, knew just how to push that well-worn boundary of his boyfriend’s restraint, and if it took a little lip-service to get there, well...

“Krav... _please_ ,” he whispered again, urging his voice towards desperate, hand tightening around his fingers. “Please, I'll be quiet, I just need you so _bad_ right now, I—”

The reaction was sudden, more than he was anticipating; Kravitz ripped his hand out of Taako's with such force that he was left stunned into silence as Kravitz leaned back, both hands gripping his hips and lifting him slightly as he thrust into him _hard_.

“Oh gods, yes _,_ _fuck_ yes,” Taako moaned, duly replacing his hand on the pillow as he rolled his hips up, each thrust jarring his ever-louder moans. His own neglected cock ached deliciously as he writhed underneath him, clenching his fingers into soft down.

"Ah, _yes_ ," and that cry seemed to slip out unbidden past pleasure-drunk lips, way too loud and unable to care as he slipped a foot between mantle and jacket, digging a heel into the small of his back. "Fuck, harder, _please_ , you feel so fucking _good_ —"

He felt Kravitz shift, felt his strong hands tilt his hips _just so_ and he was suddenly _very_ incapable of words, the way he was sliding into him leaving him light-headed and trembling, his moans tipping to breathless and soft. Everything was so perfect, the angle just right now with both legs locked around cloth-covered hips, arousal curling hot in his belly as his entire body tensed.

"I need," he gasped, words catching in his throat as the pleasure sharpened to a knife edge, "Need my hand, I need to come, please let me come—"

"You broke a promise, love," and the thrust that followed those words had Taako crying out in ecstasy, sharp and loud as his fists clenched hard around the pillow. "Why should I?”

“ _Fuck_ , I—”

“Promised to be _quiet_ ," he hissed, holding Taako tight against him on the next thrust and rolling his hips. "So why-" Kravitz stilled, breath catching and eyes slipping shut for just for a moment, and when he finally moved again it was with those slow and deep thrusts from before. “Again, why should I?”

" _Fuck_ ," he whimpered, need dripping from his voice, eyes half-closed and so blissed out that he barely registered the words tumbling from his lips. "Yeah, I'll be quiet, whatever, I'll fucking do whatever, just please, _please_ —"

Kravitz shifted, leaning forward and covering Taako's mouth in a searing kiss as his cloak fell heavy and dark around them. Taako moaned into it, low and soft and sweet, and a gentle nudge from Kravitz had him unfolding his legs as cool lips moved from his mouth to his jaw line, kissing upwards until he brushed against the lobe of a delicate pointed ear.

“Cover your mouth with your hand.” He paused for a moment, as if considering something, before continuing. “I don't care what you do with your other hand.”

Fuck.

He realized belatedly that his ‘lip service’ had given way to begging at, roughly, the very first “yes”. And he knew himself well enough to know that he should have felt _embarrassed_ — or humiliated, or _something_ — at losing control at the hands of something he'd asked for.

He should have, but he didn't.

Where embarrassment should have been lurking he found only raw desire and a trembling excitement, knowing without a doubt that this was exactly what he wanted, knowing that he wasn't so much relinquishing control as he was lending it.

And Taako trusted Kravitz with that control, fully and completely.

He locked eyes with Kravitz as he pressed his hand to his mouth, his other hand inching up to splay out on his stomach, the unwavering eye contact as much defiance as he could muster at this point. Kravitz cupped a hand to his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. The touch was soothing, grounding, so at odds with the wonderfully tight and hot stretch of his muscles. A soft kiss followed the path of his thumb, almost mockingly chaste.

“Don't close your eyes. Keep looking at me.”

The words sent heat shooting down his spine, settling deep in his belly as Kravitz moved, not breaking eye contact.

“Oh,” he murmured, lips parting and his breath catching slightly as he picked up the pace, the hand on Taako's cheek sliding back to tangle in his hair. “Oh, _fuck_ , Taako.”

It was too much.

It was _too much_ , the intimacy of seeing his eyes soften, seeing how easily the facade of control dropped, seeing the adoration and focus and _love_ in Kravitz’s gaze. The eye contact only seemed to heighten it, making him feel intensely vulnerable— and it _was_ vulnerable, as much as preferred to not think about that.

He felt Kravitz's thumb caress the soft fine hairs near his temple before sweeping up, brushing the shell of his ear. Taako made a choked noise against his palm and the way Kravitz’s eyes widened in response made the pressure and pleasure almost unbearable. He reached his other hand the rest of the way down, whimpering high in the back of his throat as he curled his fingers around his cock.

He stroked himself in time to Kravitz's thrusts, breath quickening through his nose and eyes sliding half-shut against the pleasure thudding through his veins. And staring his boyfriend in his eyes while he jerked himself off should have been awkward and weird and not this fucking amazing, and yet—

“Let me watch you come.” And oh _fuck_ , there it was, that edge of pleasure hidden in the desire and want and need in his lover’s voice, because for all of his begging Taako still holds all of the control, _Taako_ is the one letting _him_ —

His eyelids fluttered shut as he hit his peak, breath catching and thighs trembling as he spilled into his hand with a throaty moan. He felt lips and teeth pressing insistent into the column of his throat, felt two hands brace themselves by his head and Taako squeezed his eyes shut as the pace of Kravitz's hips tipped to brutal, hard and fast and everything he'd wanted.

Taako bit down into his palm to muffle his sobbing cries as he threw his head back, his other hand pressing sharp fingernails into the skin of his stomach. It was dizzying and overwhelming and entirely too much and he loved it; loved the ache at the edge of each throb of pleasure, loved the way his body rocked with each thrust, loved the silk and wool brushing almost unbearably rough against his oversensitive skin as Kravitz moved above him.

“Your hand,” he heard, the words tumbling out rough and quick between low pants, cutting through the hazy mess of his thoughts. “Move your hand.”

Eager as he was, Taako barely had time to comply before Kravitz kissed him hard, winding an arm around his waist and sliding a hand into his hair, pressing Taako tight against him and moaning loud into his mouth as he came with a sharp jerk of his hips.

He didn’t realize he had wrapped his legs around him until they gave out and fell to the mattress, jarring him in a way that was far too much when he was already so hypersensitive, and he tugged insistently at Kravitz's jacket when it became obvious that the kiss wasn't ending anytime soon.

A steady hand slid down against his hipbone, adjusting both of them slowly and carefully, and Taako's quiet sigh of relief was cut short by fingers curling tighter in his hair as Kravitz kissed him like he hadn't seen him in years.

Which, speaking of...

“Three weeks,” Taako gasped, when they finally parted.

“I know.”

“Three _fucking_ weeks.”

“I know, love.” His lips pressed light across his jaw and down his neck. “I'm sorry.”

“Fuck, well, if that's how you're gonna greet me every time this happens,” he muttered. There was a low and fond chuckle against his collarbone, and suddenly this closeness was — well, good, but not enough.

“Off,” he whispered, tugging at the jacket. And, a second later, “No, the clothes, not you.”

Kravitz paused, already halfway to sitting. “And how do you expect that to happen if-”

“I don't know, do your thing you usually do, with the wispies and all.”

“Taako-”

“Actually, y’know what, fuck it.” He let his head fall back onto the pillow, eyes closing as he nuzzled into the silk pillowcase. “M’way too tired for this. When you feel like gettin’ naked and joining me down here, you just let me know.”

“Ah.” Taako felt two cool fingertips trail down his chest. “And...what has you so utterly exhausted, love?”

He turned his face further into the pillow, trying to hide the blissed-out smile creeping across his lips. “Oh, you know.”

“I'm afraid I don't. Care to elucidate, darling?”

“Ooh, ‘darling’, is it?” He felt a small tug of guilt at the corner of his consciousness, despite his playful tone; he could tell that Kravitz really, really, _really_ wanted to cuddle. “Well, how’s about you come on down here and I will tell you, in _excruciating_ detail, how thoroughly you blew my mind just now.”

The bed shifted under him and Taako felt Kravitz press a kiss to his forehead before his weight was gone altogether. Taako waited until he heard the whisper of clothing being removed to raise a hand and cast the laziest _prestidigitation_ of his entire existence, not even bothering to open his eyes. He shifted onto his side and pulled the sheets up around him, hoping his drawn-out sigh and exaggerated ‘getting comfortable’ motions would be enough to entice Kravitz to get undressed _just_ that much faster.

He didn’t have to wait long; he felt Kravitz slide in behind him and press up against his back a moment later, one arm positioned under Taako’s head and the other draping around his waist, fingertips tracing dangerously close to his bellybutton as he leaned in to brush cool lips against the lobe of his ear.

“‘Please’, my ass.”

“Mm-hmm,” Taako hummed, tilting his head just enough to brush his nose against Kravitz’s cheek.

“Lup very much heard you.”

“And I very much _don’t care_ . You climb into my bed all— do you even have adrenaline? Is that a thing you do? Whatever, you climb up in here tellin' me you want me and looking really _fucking_ hot in your cloak and all and you think I’m gonna let you get away with _not_ railing me until—”

“ _Taako_.”

“Yeah?”

“Turn around.”

He did so, quietly and without fuss, tilting his head up and eagerly receiving those slow, deep kisses. He reached back and stroked a hand up and down Kravitz’s neck, thumb pressing a tense spot that always seemed to linger by his shoulder. The arm draped across Taako’s waist tightened as his Reaper pulled him in closer, nuzzling his face into his collarbone.

“That feels _really_ good.” The words were little more than a tired mumble against his skin, but they still drew an appreciative hum from Taako. Just another tick in the box of weird dichotomies between them, he supposed; sex tended to rile him up, leaving him spent and breathless but with an energy sliding under his skin that he couldn’t help but indulge. And for Kravitz…

“Still awake, bubeleh?” He slid his fingertips up into his hair, dragging them against his scalp.

“Mm. Barely. Why?”

“Oh, I dunno. Figured I’d ask about how your super-secret cult-hunting mission went, y’know, like a good boyfriend. Maybe get a story, maybe get a bit turned on at hearin’ you be all badass, maybe go for round two…”

He felt more than heard the huff of laughter against his chest. “Sorry, love. Tomorrow. I’m surprised I had round one in me, to be honest.”

“You know, you didn’t _have_ to wake me up if you were so tired,” he teased, thumbs drawing light, soothing circles behind his ears. The silence that followed stretched so long that Taako was about to assume he’d fallen asleep when he answered.

“I was just...excited. To see you again. I missed you.” He shifted just enough to press a kiss to Taako’s neck. “I couldn’t help it. Adrenaline, I suppose.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t blame that on adrenaline, that’s just you being a fucking _sap_.” He tempered his words with a series of light kisses to his forehead, burying his nose in his hair and taking in amber and sandalwood and something else reminiscent of incense, fingertips working tirelessly against his neck until the breaths against his skin slowed and evened out.

He laid there in silence, fingers stroking through his hair as he stared at the clothes on the floor, telling himself he’d move eventually. It would be rude to wake him, after all, when sleep was such an indulgence for them both.  

He let his mind drift, briefly, to waking up to insistent kisses and cold hands on his skin. Remembered the thrill he’d felt at Kravitz’s presence, the familiarity that curled so deep into his subconscious that his first instinct had been not to turn away, but to reach up and pull him in.

When had _that_ happened?

The Taako from three years ago certainly wouldn’t recognize him now. That untrusting, closed-off, fractured elf would have no idea who this was, this person tangled up in sheets in a bed in a house with a boyfriend, all of them _his_ , all of them very much permanent.

He traced his fingers over a gold bead and wondered, distantly, if he’d ever be able to recognize himself again.

Beside him, Kravitz shifted, but it wasn’t to turn away; he kicked listlessly at the sheets and curled his arm up Taako’s back, pulling him in and pressing his forehead to his shoulder. Taako adjusted accordingly, legs slotting together, nose once again nuzzling into the top of his head as Kravitz sighed against his chest.

“...Missed you too,” he whispered into his hair, closing his eyes.

There were worse things, he supposed, than finding yourself in someone’s arms.

And with that, he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
